five days of torture
by mystiques
Summary: Kidnappers study your every move, and they know every turn you take, and every step you take—perfectly. / "This isn't the time to joke around." Coach Walker peered around menacingly. "This is serious. It's real. And it happens." / or, the story of the tragic kidnapping of Alicia Rivera. —told in Alicia's POV. AU, may be jolicia. six chapters in total.
1. prologue

**.:five days of torture:. **

_— prologue — _

* * *

**Loneliness**.

Loneliness is not a good thing, and even I agree to this—because although you can have time to yourself, it's boring. Utterly boring, dull, and just plain stupid. It's a waste of time to be by yourself, so I try to _always_ be around people.

Well, there _is_ more to the story, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

I'm Alicia Rivera—resident of Westchester, New York, and beta of the Pretty Committee. You may think we're these snobby, rude cheerleaders, but that's not me. I'm just me—a dancer, and supposedly a beauty queen and photogenic. If there's one thing everyone knows about me, it's that I'm pretty. Or maybe it's the fact that I absolutely cannot run (well I can, but I refuse to because it's so tiring and sweaty).

I would be, I suppose, the perfect target for a kidnapper. I had never dwelled on the subject before, as Principal Burns didn't see fit to it—although it's a kidnapper's dream to get a child of a rich family. Someone many loved, and would pay _millions_ for. After all, I can't run away from the kidnapper—and I'm always wearing heels or flats.

Coach Walker, the annoyingly strict P.E. teacher at OCD—he was new—had always given lectures on how self defense was very important. I never paid attention, for I felt there was no need to. Thinking back, it would have been a good idea to listen to his rants, as they prove to be quite useful at times.

Now, where was I? Oh, right. Coach Walker. Well, for starters, he's persistent about how we must always be on our watch. Because, according to him, kidnappers will study your every move for weeks—even months—and they'll know every turn to take, and every step you take. Stalker, much? I wonder how he even knows this stuff.

I guess he was right. Because I got kidnapped.

For five days, I was left with a dirty, grimy, foul-smelling, and ugly git of a kidnapper. Locked up in a house, with only his phone hidden safely beneath my filthy covers. It was a bad week, but alas, I've learned quite a lot from the experience.

This is my story.

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**an:** hi, i think i'll be updating this like every single day (skipping wednesday), and there will be six chapters in total. i'm sorry this is short. c: but it's the prologue, and if you know me, my prologues are always short. teehee.

please review? it would encourage me. c: but i'll still be updating, even if i don't get a single review. c: but please give this a chance.

**question of the day:** coca cola or pepsi? because i've recently fallen in love with coca cola. c:

um, and if you feel like it, please vote in my poll? it's on my profile. thanks! :) oh, and i may or may not publish the next chapter today. c: so check the chapter count regularly, if you're interested.

*awkwardly rambles on to improve word count*

xx jo


	2. day one

**.:five days of torture:. **

_— day one — _

* * *

Coach Walker gives interesting advice, and as much as I hate to admit it, his self defense lessons are amazingly useful as well. The 360 degree blocks? Genius! I tell you, that man may be mean, but he sure knows his stuff. And his voice lectures are just hilarious.

So you can say I somewhat enjoy his self defense lessons, but not so much. I'm just pointing out that you should take his advice. It's like, the best thing you can ever do to prevent from going into my situation.

Oh, yes, the story. Well, I guess it all started one foggy afternoon, as I was trudging home after dance class (the limo broke and my parents don't care to drive me home). Yes, I actually walked home. But keep in mind that I was tired, sweaty, and exhausted from dance_—_so it's not like I was overfilling with energy.

I can just picture it. Me, walking home, my forehead glinting with sweat. A heavy duffel bag is slung over my shoulder, and I look at the ground, pacing my steps slowly. I can imagine myself wishing to be somewhere else, daydreaming away. So I obviously wouldn't see a man creep up behind me and freaking put me in a bag.

Yes, he put me in a _bag_. Gah, that really annoyed me, because I really enjoy having light, so I can see, y'know? I absolutely hate the darkness because what if a spider lands on me? Ew. That's _almost_ as bad as sweating.

This guy was honestly experienced; he even gagged me. Yes, he put a piece of white cloth in my mouth_—_or rather, shoved it in there, threatening, "You better not take this out or this is going to be _so_ much worse!"

I believed him. I don't know why, I did. I could have just, you know, taken the cloth out and screamed in his ear and kicked his fucking dick. But no, I was quite naive and stupid back then (I admit it), and I've changed. Back then, I was a silly, giggling girl who didn't know a thing about devastating and important situations.

So anyway, he stuffed me in the bag, right? Ugh, I really suck at writing_—_but let's move on, shall we? So going on, my dear readers (and i hope it's only you, diary), he put the bag in his car and sped away. And of course, I was in the bag, hyperventilating and crying. Hey, don't judge! Wouldn't you cry if some scary fugitive put you in a bag and kidnapped you?!

I should have put on a fight, I know_—_I know, okay? Back to the story, yes, faithful readers? So he sped off, probably going way too fast and breaking the speed limit, but it's not like he cared. He knew my parents would be willing to pay _millions_ to have me back. He knew that he was going to be so freaking rich, and so he did not give a fuck.

But me? I was still panicking. Okay, okay, jeez, I'm sorry_—_but I couldn't help it! I was stuck in a bag_—_and my hair was probably all messed up (yeah, my concerns back in seventh grade were really shallow).

Whoops, diary, I need to eat some food. Be right back!

.

Well, then, let us continue my story. The first day, alas, was actually not as action-packed and interesting as the others. (in which you will learn one of his other motives—it makes me shudder thinking of them.

Anyway, moving on, he drove his car up to a house (i could see a hazy outline of it through the bag) and he just drove right into the garage, preventing me from seeing the street address and house number.

Gee, this guy's experienced!

And so the kidnapper welcomes me into his home; and all I have is my duffel bag and Josh's phone. I didn't know why I had it, but now I remember. I had taken it from him at school that day—like payback for his little jokes. I don't know why I chose to do that.

All I had was Josh's phone. My own phone was at home, in the charger, unfortunately.

The first thing the kidnapper—Mark, apparently—did was show me to my "room". According to him, the bed was new and the sheets were recently washed, but I wasn't convinced. Come on! The sheets were evidently dirty, as they had gray spots all over them.

"Yeah, right." I had said, rolling my eyes and walking into the room cautiously, as if something were to spring out at me. I noticed mint-colored wallpaper, with small white flowers painted on. The room felt lived in; worn out, and already used. It felt as if it belonged to someone, and I was genuinely annoyed. (or so I thought)

"Enjoy!" He had simply replied, and I noticed that he had a thick accent, although he looked as native as an American could me. But then, again, I'm always wrong. "We'll have much fun tomorrow, after we get some rest!"

I simply frowned, taking in the room once more. "Oh, really, now?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, my plans for the next days are really cool." Mark smiled, and I thought he looked like an evil scientist. No, scratch that. A _dirty_ evil scientist. One who needs a shower, stat.

"Um, okay?" I stated, probably looking annoyed. "Can I have my privacy now?"

"Of course, young lady!" Mark grinned lazily, backing out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

Hm. So, he was nice, now? How weird, this quick change in personality.

.

I waited a few minutes, and when I was sure that he wasn't paying attention, I used Josh's phone to text Massie.

**Josh Hotz:** Mass, help me! im stuck in a kidnapper's plc! -leesh

A few seconds later, the phone dinged, and I mentally slapped myself for forgetting to put the phone on vibrate. I did so quickly, hoping that Mark hadn't heard. To be safe, I hid the phone under the grimy pillow.

Ugh, and Mark must have such good hearing, because he popped in a minute later. "Say, what was that noise?"

"Uh, it was just me, trying to beat-box." I lied, trying as hard as I could to sound innocent.

"Huh," Mark scratched his head. "Never thought you'd be one to beat-box. Okay, then." He left the room again, but I made sure after that to keep as quiet as possible. (yes, I do have wits at times)

I pulled out Josh's phone as softly as I could, but unfortunately, the sheets decided to crinkle. I scowled.

**Massie Block:** stfu josh, this isn't funny. u r not leesh, got it?

I facepalmed. Leave it to Massie to not believe me and think that Josh was pulling a trick on her. I sat gingerly on the bed, and when no ants or spiders decided to attack me, I relaxed and lied down. I guess I had better get some sleep.

"Time to man up, Alicia," I had told myself.

It's was going to be a long night, and an even longer day afterwards.

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**an:** i tried, guys, i tried. at least i updated, and at least this is longer! *whacks self* if this doesn't make sense, sorry. :c

well, this chapter sucked and i admit it, lol. :D but if you liked it, yay! i tried to describe stuff but in the beginning she's stuck in a bag so she can't see much but darkness and truth be told, i've never been in a bag. so i have no idea what it is like in one. so, i used my imagination. c:

also, this is a diary-like thing, yes, and whatever, alicia and me both like to rant and ramble on randomly.

also, she may be ooc. i'm sorry, but when i try to be in character i end up with a shallow, bitchy girl. :( *randomly rants on to improve word count ;D*

i might update tomorrow, depends on homework amount. most likely i won't, though, because i have a 2-hour ballet class. :')

please review? (:

**qotd:** tootsie rolls or tootsie pops? tbh, i prefer the pops. c:

xx jo


	3. day two

**.:five days of torture:.**

— _day two _—

**WARNING:** some undetailed 'mature' content. kissing, that's all.

* * *

yolo, diary.

Well then, after my extremely awkward starting phrase, let us pick up on the story, shall we? :D (but hey, you _do_ only live once, you know!) Anyway, picking up from last time, when I was unfortunately kidnapped, I had gone to bed. Surprisingly, I wasn't tortured by dreams, but instead I had a really relaxing dream. I can't quite remember what happened, but I think it involved Josh and Massie dancing around with reindeer antlers. o.o

Moving on from that awkward note, I awoke sometime around seven or eight-ish, as I have this human alarm clock inside of me that wakes me up around seven. Hey, I know that sounds weird, but it's true. Anyway, I keep getting off track, whoops. Ha...I just strayed away from the topic, again. Oh, what Ms. Parke would _say_ if she knew!

Nonetheless, I am intent on finishing this story, and maybe it'll appear in the newspapers? When I awoke, the house was quiet, so I assumed that Mark was sleeping in. Contrary to my beliefs the previous day, I had thought that perhaps Mark was't experienced, but rather, a noob. You see, when I turned on Josh's phone, I realized there was _internet access_.

I wondered if anyone noticed I was missing - so I checked the online edition of _The Westchester Times_, and sure enough, the cover story looked a lot like this:

**ALICIA RIVERA: MISSING**

[_insert a picture of me]_

_By: Johanna Martins_

Recently, one of our own - Westchester's elite, of course - has gone missing. No one has seen her, but Olivia Ryan, one of Rivera's friends, has stated that she "saw Leesh walk out of dance class alone." Could it be? Was Alicia Rivera kidnapped? There have been no other sightings of Ms. Rivera, and further investigations will be made. Read more at pg. 3

.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't a really great example of a newspaper story, but I assure you it happened, and it was something along those lines, anyway. I had dropped the phone in surprise, which was a really stupid move, because it made a loud _clang_ sound and probably woke Mark up. Really, I have no idea what that guy can hear.

So I decided to take a look at my room in broad daylight, as I wasn't sure if I had been seeing things the night before. The room, was, like the day before, quite dirty, but it actually had a pretty large window with pretty blue curtains. The curtains was embroidered with pale pink flowers and squiggles, and the wallpaper was a pale lavender color. The room would actually be nice to live in if it was cleaned and taken care of.

There was a dust-contaminated white desk in the other corner of the room, and a piano lived in another corner. I took a tentative step towards the desk when I heard a disgusting sound—something that sounded a lot like Dylan when she was hungry. I looked around, expecting to see Mark standing in the doorway, hand on his stomach, and groaning, "I'm hungry. Alicia, cook some breakfast."

Instead, I found out that no one else was in the room, so the only possible source of the noise was me. Ew—had my stomach really growled so loudly? I had looked down at it in utter disgust and surprise, and I know, _I know_, I sound so stupid. I hid Josh's phone in the pillowcase and opened the door as silently and ninja-like as I could.

.

Tiptoeing down a hall when you are trying not to be heard is hard, kids. Don't try it. After wandering throughout the house for approximately five minutes, I finally came across the kitchen, and I collapsed on a chair, pretty much starving. Hey, I had always been well-fed, even if you only saw me eating California rolls! -_-

I dragged myself to the fridge, and upon opening it, I discovered that Mark was pretty well-set and had lots of fresh fruit, vegetables, and lots of leftovers. I raised an eyebrow as I discovered some hand-made sushi, which looked pretty fresh and delicious. Shrugging, I had taken that and hurried back to my room, wondering why Mark had kidnapped me if he had so much food and money already.

My mind jumped to the one conclusion available. His motive wasn't for money, or maybe it was and there were more motives. Perhaps, he had a different motive, or many motives. Who knew? I most certainly didn't, and I still don't. But I _do_ know a few of his other motives, but let's just get onto the the moment, shall we not?

So there I was, sitting on my bed, eating some perfectly fine sushi, when Mark decided to interrupt the moment. He sauntered in, saying, "I think it's time we got a little..._closer_."

I crinkled my nose. "Um, what do you mean?" I inspected my nails, waiting for his reply. I hoped the answer wasn't something inappropriate, but rather one that I could use against him.

Mark smirked. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough. Follow me. Or you're never going home." He winked. "You'll be stuck here—with me—for your entire life. Want that?"

I shook my head and followed him out obediently, as if I was a starving puppy. Gosh, thinking back, I should've kicked his ass and jumped out the big fat window in the room. -.- How stupid of me not to _try_ to escape.

.

Mark lead me into a room in which there was a king-sized bed. "This, my darling, is where we'll spend most of our time." Mark purred seductively, and my mind now jumps to a book Kristen had been fangirling over a few weeks ago. What was it, again? Oh, right, _Catching Fire_. _Well, if I ever get out of this damn place, I'll tell Kristen about Mark_, I had thought.

"So what are we doing?" I asked, as out of the few hours I had been in the house, I had accomplished nothing and was bored as hell. "Is it fun?"

"For me, yes. But for you...probably not, but whatever. You're hot." Mark whispered in my ear, sounding quite seductive.

I, being the naive twelve-year-old I was, asked, "What do you mean?" I had looked up at him with my wide and innocent eyes, but inside, I was scared as hell, but at the same time, I was curious as to what would happen. See, being alone somewhere without my friends was seriously boring for me; usually I am surrounded by my friends.

"Oh, you know, the works; kissing, making out, yeah?" Mark winked.

I shuddered, "No thanks." I made a weird face (or what I hope was a weird face), and attempted to walk away from him.

"Not so fast, darling," Mark muttered, "It's not like you can leave anyway. Whatever, we'll start easy. Let's just kiss."

And he grabbed me and pushed me against the wall, kissing me while I attempted to push him off. But eventually, I gave in.

"C'mon, babe, let's go further," Mark said, but I doubt that he actually meant the 'babe' part.

By that point, I had lost all interest in trying to get away; I do not know why. I guess I was intrigued? I don't know _why_ the heck I let him be my first kiss. Ugh. I. Am. So. Stupid!

.

I am unable to go into further details as I am cringing from terror and disgust at myself. I am creepily scared of myself now. Why had I let him take advantage of me? True, I was bored, and true, I wanted to get out, but did I _have_ to do that?

I'm facepalming as I write this, as I sincerely apologize for scarring your eyes, although I did not really explain what happened in full detail. Well, it's getting late and I've pretty much finished this part of the story, so...night, diary! :) There's hot chocolate and marshmallows in the kitchen and I really want to drink it so ta-ta! :D

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**an:** hello, i felt like updating this. i actually have this planned out, and believe me, what happened now is nothing compared to what happens next. ;D firstly, though, i want to thank the reviewers of the previous chapter; **koryandrs**, **sarah**, **abi**, **rachel**, **nina**, **jananipanani**, and **clara**. (: it means a lot, and thanks for reviewing! :D

can we get to 30 reviews by the end of this chapter? that's what i'm shooting for! what do _you_ think will happen next? :)

**qotd—**hot chocolate or coffee of your choice? Sorry, but since it's wintertime, I've been obsessed with warm drinks. c: I prefer hot chocolate, mainly because my mother will pay for it, haha.

_what's up next time:_

massie&alicia text-fight

&more, but i am unwilling to reveal it haha. :P

if i get **30** or more reviews, I will update on or before 12-15-13! :)


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